


Bedtime Stories

by GrrraceUnderfire



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasizing, Gangbang, Just a relaxing bedtime ritual for a bunch of lonely soldiers, M/M, Male Slash, Masturbation, Prisoner of War, Stuttering, Stuttering Peter Newkirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-07-30 22:43:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20104831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrrraceUnderfire/pseuds/GrrraceUnderfire
Summary: A spellbinding Newkirk helps his mates relax and get a good night’s sleep, and then has Colonel Hogan all to himself.





	1. Chapter 1

“Nine o’clock! Lights out, boys,” the rotund guard bellowed. “And tonight be good little boys. No monkey business.”

”We’re always good boys,” Corporal Newkirk replied with an airy wave of his hand. “I know I am.”

”You? You are the naughtiest boy in Barracks 2, and possibly the whole camp,” Schultz replied. 

“Wot, me? I’m just sitting ‘ere singing songs and telling stories,” Newkirk defended. “If I was really naughty, I’d be out doing unmentionable things with some pretty fraulein.”

”Funny. I never noticed you leaving out any details about the things you do with pretty frauleins,” Olsen said. “Sometimes I wish you would. It’s one thing when I can get out to see Bergit, but when we’re stuck here...”

”I hear nothing, nothing!” Schultz grumbled. “Everybody stays in camp! You are ALL stuck here! No one leaves! There are no pretty girls to concern yourselves with.”

””Well, we can fix that,” Newkirk said as the door slammed shut. “Now, who wants a bedtime story?” Twelve pairs of hands shot up. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh my God, shut him up,” Olsen groaned. “I can’t take it.”

”Once upon a time there was this lass named...” Newkirk began.

”Betty Sue,” Addison said with a sigh.

”Mary Jane,” Carter chimed in.

”Suzette,” LeBeau said breathlessly. “Or possibly Madeleine.”

”Anna Maria,” Garlotti supplied.

”Carol,” Kinch whispered.

”Yes, well I was thinking of Beryl, but those are all quite lovely names. So carry on,” Newkirk said. “Her lover—insert you name here, lads—was a brave airman who was taken prisoner by German brutes while courageously defending his homeland. But what’s her name...”

”Betty Sue...”

”Mary Jane...”

”Madeleine... or possibly Stephanie...”

”Anna Maria...”

”Carol...”

”Well, she never stopped thinking of’im did she? Because like I said, ‘e wasn’t j-j-just ‘er boyfriend. He was ‘er lover.”

”Husband,” Addison said.

”Fiancé,” Carter said. “ Practically.”

”Crush,” Kinch said.

”Right, we get the idea, lads,” Newkirk continued. “And that meant there were certain things they would do together. Things that felt really good.”

”Kissing,” Carter said. “And holding hands, of course.”

”Oh for crying out loud, Carter, don’t be so pure,” Garlotti said. “At least slip your hand inside her blouse.”

”I can do that?” Carter said in amazement.

”It’s _your_ fantasy,” LeBeau hissed. 

“Lads, the point is, she thought about him all the time and tried to remember the things he would do,” Newkirk said. “And she wr-wrote him letters about all these ‘appy moments they had shared. Including putting his hand inside ‘er blouse many times. Now could I please carry on?”

“What’s that feel like?” Carter inquired.

”...Her lover stroked her soft breast until the nipple turned hard. He nuzzled it with his tongue until she moaned,” Newkirk said.

”Oh. Jeez.” Carter felt himself twitching. His hand went to examine the source of the sensation.

”Do more like that, Newkirk,” Garlotti said breathlessly as his bunk rocked rhythmically.

“He slipped off her knickers...”

”That’s not sexy,” Kinch said. “Say ‘panties.’”

”He slipped off her soft, silky, red, low-cut knickers which were made in America. He examined the label, which inexplicably said ‘panties,’ which isn’t a terribly sexy word. Unlike ‘knickers,’ which was enough to make him hard every time,” Newkirk continued.

” Something gets lost in the translation, but I’ll buy that,” Kinch said. “Especially the ‘red’ part. Because that looks hot against her skin.”

”Snow-white skin.”

”Tawny skin.”

”Cappuccino skin.”

”Is that some kind of Italian food, Tony?” That was Carter.

”It’s coffee with creamy white foam. Now shut up.”

”Sun-tanned skin.”

”Sun-tanned? Jeez, LeBeau, how would Berit get a suntan _there_?” Olsen inquired 

”Nude sun-bathing,” Newkirk and LeBeau replied in unison. Clearly this had come up before. 

“Mary Jane wears a modest swim suit,” Carter said with what sounded like disapproval, although the rhythmic shaking of his bunk suggested growing interest.

”All right, her drawers are off,” Addison said impatiently. “Come on, tell the story.”

“He stroked her neck and cheek, lingering over the lush softness of her gorgeous English peaches and cream complexion, then pressed his lips to her plump pink lips. They kissed gently, softly, and then he pushed his tongue past her teeth.”

“Come on, get to the good stuff,” Olsen said. “It ain’t her mouth.”

”That’s your opinion,” LeBeau said. “Clearly you’ve never tried soixante-neuf, barbarian.”

“He was in a hurry, so his fingers wandered to the cleft between her legs. He lingered at the entrance, softly stroking the slippery wetness.”

”Why's it wet there anyway?” Carter asked.

”It’s designed so you can slip inside, Andrew,” Kinch answered patiently. “Which I think you’re about to do.”

”Not until you give her a little more pleasure,” LeBeau huffed. “Go on, Pierre.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Right-o. Well this lass...”

”Betty Sue.”

”Mary Jane.”

”Stephanie. Or possibly Marie-Claire.”

”Berit.”

”Anna Maria.”

”Carol.”

”Beryl. She had an identical twin sister name of Rita. And they did absolutely everything t-together.”

”Carlotta,” Garlotti said.

”Veronique. Or possibly Yvette,” LeBeau said. 

”Oh my God,” a deep voice moaned. That was Kinch. “No sister. I can’t take much more.”

”Mary Jane doesn’t have a sister,” Carter said with confusion. “She has a brother named Billy.”

Mmm, Billy, then, Newkirk thought, but he kept that observation to himself. “Well anyway. Our ‘ero gently pushed a couple of fingers past the wet slippery opening and found a little button to push.”

”There’s a button? Is there a diagram?” Carter asked. 

“I’ll draw it later. Just shut up. Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Addison said. 

“I’ll have you know I’m 24. That’s two years older than Newkirk, and I’m older than Garlotti and Baker and...”

”And me. In years, anyway. But I’m married. I know things,” Addison said.

“Andrew, the thing about this button is that it’s soft and larger than you’d think, right on top of something shaped almost like lips. So he stroked it and then went in for a closer look.”

”With his tongue,” LeBeau said shakily. 

“Of course with his tongue,” Newkirk smirked. 

“His tongue? For crying out loud, I don’t think it was his _tongue_ he slipped in there.” Olsen was pumping himself hard.

”Then you don’t know what you’re missing if you don’t take care of her needs first,” LeBeau said with the authority of a formerly married man. “Pierre knows that this is what a gentleman must always do.”

”You always say Newkirk’s a street urchin.”

”Yes, and proud of it,” Newkirk said, coming to LeBeau’s rescue. “But I know how to treat a lady. Now belt up or Berit’s out of this story.”

”Yeah, shut up Olsen. It’s called ‘foreplay.’ Newkirk's getting there,” Addison said. 

”So am I. Oh my God, Anna Maria! Carlotta!” That was Garlotti. One man down for the count. He rolled over and tried to even out his breath. 

“Well, then he turned to the twin sister and felt about in a similar manner,” Newkirk said, smiling about his first conquest of the evening. “He str-stroked her where she was wet and made her as pleased as Tony ‘ere, and then he got a leg over her. And he ground his hips against her warm, soft body and felt himself growing ffffirm.”

”Just now? Are you kidding me? He’s been ‘firm’ the whole time,” Olsen complained.

”Say ‘stiff,’ Newkirk. That’s more erotic,” Addison said.

”I didn’t say ‘j-j-j-j-just now,’ Olsen. And all right, Addison, he’s st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-st-stiff. Because we’ve got all night for mme to get through hard words. Anyhow, Olsen, our lad has been getting there st-st-st-steadily but he has tremendous self control. He likes to mmmake it last,” Newkirk said. “Now shut, shut, shut up and listen.”

”Nobody interrupt Peter,” Kinch said. “You’re throwing him off his rhythm.” He addressed Newkirk: “You’re on a roll, buddy.”

“Thanks, mate. Where was I? Oh. So he took himself in hand. She leaned over to watch as he gave himself a long str-stroke, her eyes growing wide. ‘You can’t possibly...’ she said. ‘You’re so... so... so big.’ That was artful repetition, by the way, and not a st-st-stammer at all. Of course he was used to ladies noticing how big he was. So he told her what he was going to do.”

”He ran his hands over her breasts as he spoke, lingering on her budding nipples and gently suckling them as she squirmed in delight. ‘Don’t worry, love,’ he said. ‘I know you don’t see lads this size every day. But I would never, ever hurt you with my bigness.’ So he spreads her legs apart gently, spits on his fingers and slides them right in. And he str-strokes and wiggles and rubs until she can’t take it no more. She’s panting and mmmoaning and suddenly her breath hitches and she’s in ecstasy.”

”’Bigness’ isn’t a word,” Addison said. “But it should be.”

A convulsion could be heard from the bunk beneath him. “Oh, don’t stop, Mary Jane! Ahhhhh! Ohhh!” That was Carter. Two men down, and it was only 9:15 


	4. Chapter 4

“Right, sleep tight, Andrew,” Newkirk said. He received a muffled “oh my God” for his pains.

”Let’s get on with it, then,” Newkirk continued. “One might suppose our hero j-just slid right inside ‘er after preparing her so thoughtfully. But we’re mmmen of the world, ain’t we?”

Murmurs of assent were heard across the barracks.

”We know it don’t ‘appen that way. He had to push, and pull back a little, then push and pull back, and then push and pull back. Thrust and back. Thrust and back. Or he’d have never got all the way in. But he did. And it felt so good and mmmoist. Very mmmmmoist.” Newkirk sighed. He was enjoying himself rather a lot.

All around him, bunks started vibrating. Newkirk’s prolonged “mmm” had never sounded so right.

“So he kept thrusting and pulling back again and again until he couldn’t stand it no more, and he had to let go. So he sped up and rocked and rocked until he nearly came right inside her. He was so close that it was inevitable. One. More. Thrust.”

”Mon Dieu,” said a breathless Frenchman. “Moist. Thrust. Not all English words are ugly.”

“But he knew he oughtn’t because he didn’t want no nippers running about. He was still a lad himself. Fortunately, like I mentioned, he had tremendous self control. So he pulled himself out of her and tried not to touch himself, though that was hard. But he wasn’t sure what to do next.” Newkirk knew where to place a dramatic pause, and this was it.

“Oh Carol, baby, let me in. That’s it, that’s right. Right...there.” Kinch huffed hard, moaned, made a lot of fapping noises, then laughed and went silent.

”Hard? Hard! Betty Sue! Oh, oh, oh, ahhh.”

”Berit, I’m coming! I’m coming noooow!” 

“Blimey, Olsen, you don’t have to announce it. Berit knows, and we don’t need the Krauts in ‘ere.” Newkirk was mostly joking, but Olsen annoyed him.

Olsen, Addison and Kinch were over the finish line and soon joined the others in a deep, restful slumber. Carter, Garlotti and several of the boys in the back row had already drifted off. While there might have been other participants still awake in the barracks, as far as Newkirk knew it was now down to just LeBeau and himself.

”Je veux une pipe,” LeBeau whispered.

”Well then it came to him what to do. Because at this point, the young lady...”

”Michelle. Or possibly Odette.”

”Well, she whispered something in her young man’s ear. And he blushed. But he did exactly what she said. When he pulled out of her, he was all st-st-st-st-st...” But he was stuck, so he inhaled and tried again. “All fffffirm and slick. So he rolled onto his back and waited expectantly,” Newkirk said.

”Not in the story, Pierre. Une pipe in real life. A real one.” LeBeau was whimpering.

”Not ‘appening,” Newkirk said firmly. “Not with me, mate. Not today. But this girl...”

”Odette. Or possibly Martine. Tomorrow?”

“We’ll see. Anyway, back to this bird. She had excellent technique, taught by her boyfriend who knew exactly what he liked. First she licked the underside and drew her tongue all the way along from the base to the velvety tip... then she opened her mouth wide and took him inside her wet, j-j-j-juicy...”

Now it was LeBeau’s turn to erupt like a fountain. Newkirk stopped to listen, knowing the contours of this man’s pleasure particularly well after three years in close quarters and multiple cooler stays and a few private encounters. He smiled at the intensity of LeBeau’s satisfaction, pleased with himself for helping his mate along.

LeBeau wiped off his hands and rolled over, smiling across the barracks at Newkirk. Around them, a dozen deeply relieved men were snoring in their bunks, sleeping like babies, or like men with powerful sex drives. One of those. 

“That was satisfying, Pierre. Thank you,” LeBeau said.

”Ta, mate.”

”I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t... haven’t... and you’re still... Do you need...?”

”Eager. Mmm, yes. Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Won’t be long.” He spit in his hand, gave himself a good stroke and kept going. “I penciled you in on my calendar for tomorrow, though, right? My place, whenever we can get away.”

LeBeau was beginning to reply when the door to Colonel Hogan’s office swung open.

”Newkirk! Are you telling stories again? What did I tell you about that? Laundry day’s not until Monday!” Hogan was bellowing.

”Shh, Sir, the lads are all sleeping,” Newkirk replied. Oh blimey, he was so close.

”You need to stop provoking everyone. Get in here!”

Newkirk sighed and swung his legs over the side of his bunk. “Coming, Sir,” he said. Though not right now, he grumbled. 

**XXX**

_Translation: Une pipe is a blowjob._


	5. Chapter 5

Newkirk entered Hogan’s office, his head hanging low. As he closed the door, Hogan grabbed the collar of his nightshirt and pushed him against the door.

”What did I tell you about getting everyone worked up with those stories of yours?” Hogan demanded. He gave Newkirk a shake, striking fear into the young corporal. “You get them too aroused.”

Newkirk looked at Hogan with wide eyes. “They’re all sound asleep now, Sir. You could check.”

Hogan let go of Newkirk and cracked the door open. “Kinch?” he stage whispered. No reply. “Carter?” Silence. “LeBeau?” Nothing. 

He pushed Newkirk out of the way and entered the barracks. He went from bed to bed, shining a light into each man’s face. No one moved a muscle except to snore. 

Newkirk was behind him. “Out cold. Every last one. We’re the only ones up.” He touched the front of his nightshirt. He did mean ‘up.’”

Hogan grabbed him by the hand and dragged him roughly back to his quarters. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to his bottom bunk. As Newkirk obeyed, Hogan hovered, arms crossed, not knowing how to start. Being at a loss for words was not in his comfort zone and he looked annoyed.

”The walls are paper thin in this place,” Hogan hissed.

”That they are, Sir,” Newkirk agreed.

”Do you have any idea what it’s like to lie in here and listen to you spinning your little stories?” Hogan sat down heavily on the bunk next to Newkirk. “No one could sleep through all that ...vivid description.”

“Yes, I do have some idea, Sir,” Newkirk replied. There was Tiger, he thought. And half a dozen others. Didn’t the colonel realize it worked both ways?

Newkirk took Hogan’s hand and rubbed his thumb in the Colonel’s palm. When Hogan didn’t pull away, he stroked the inside of his wrist. Still meeting no resistance, he worked his way up to the forearm and fluttered his fingers over the soft, sensuous skin there.

”The thing about a good wank, Sir, is that you sleep like a rock after it’s over. Everyone is sound asleep. Everyone but you and me.” 

“Is that right?” Hogan replied, his baritone suddenly husky with interest.

“Mmhmm,” Newkirk responded. “Blimey, it’s warm in ‘ere,” he added as he pulled his nightshirt over his head. 

Hogan felt heat rise as he looked at the corporal, sitting there bare chested and smiling. His arms looked strong, his abdomen firm. His eyes were so bright and he seemed to be biting back a dirty joke. Hogan laid a hand on his chest, which was hairless except for a small tuft over the breastbone. He felt so warm and soft. He ran his fingers lightly over Newkirk’s chest and belly.

“Tell me about that girl of yours,” Hogan said, fingering the downy hair that started just below Newkirk’s belly button. 

”I think I’d rather tell you about a boy. A boy who couldn’t stop thinking about a dashing officer.” Newkirk eased himself onto his back and pulled the colonel toward him.

Hogan gulped. He was confused. He was a seducer, not the seduced. He felt like a man being lured down a dark alleyway. He sensed danger, but who knew what he would find? Somehow he swallowed his fear and put on his best Hogan grin. If he was going on an adventure, he would have to feel he was in charge. So he stroked Newkirk’s cheek as he gazed down at him, and tried not to gulp again.

“Did the officer ever kiss him?” Hogan whispered. 

“Well, no, but he wanted him to,” Newkirk said. “Like this.” He propped himself up on his elbows and planted a chaste kiss on Hogan’s lips. He smiled up through long, dark eyelashes.

”No tongue? The officer would have been disappointed,” Hogan said.

”The boy was waiting for the officer to show him how. He was still a boy, after all. The officer had much more experience in these matters, and the boy liked to learn from the best,” Newkirk said.

So he was in charge, sort of, Hogan realized. Newkirk wanted him in charge. Maybe he could do this.

”I think the officer would have shown him this,” Hogan said, trailing kisses along Newkirk’s jaw, his cheeks, his chin, his neck, and succeeding in making him giggle. “He would have done that first before showing the boy this.” He parted Newkirk’s lips with a kiss and then explored his mouth with his tongue, relishing the hint of coffee and cigarettes.

They kissed, deeply and intensely at first, then slowed down to soft lingering kisses, both enjoying the relative solitude of a quiet barracks.

”The boy would have enjoyed this very much, being a quick study and all,” Newkirk eventually said. “I think he might even feel his shorts getting tight.” 

That was Hogan’s invitation to feel the bulge in Newkirk’s soft jersey boxers. He fondled it while gazing into the corporal’s eyes, then slipped the shorts off over his hips. Mmm. Newkirk was well built despite being thin. Circumcised, he noted with surprise. And quite eager. He could feel himself stiffening.

Hogan stood, walked to the door, jammed a chair under the handle and returned to look down at Newkirk. He was on his back, eyes closed, his hand wrapped around his little soldier as it came to attention. Hogan had always thought Newkirk handsome, but he’d never considered him beautiful until just now, with his long dark lashes and soft cheeks.

Hogan stripped off his clothes, leaving only his shorts to hide his own semi aroused state. Newkirk opened his eyes to watch Hogan undress as he continued pleasuring himself, then he let the Colonel take over and relished the feel of a man’s firm hand.

They went on that way for some time, exploring one another with their mouths and hands. Hogan seemed fascinated with the experience of holding another man’s cock and hardly let go until Newkirk spoke up. “I think the boy would find this exciting,” Newkirk squeaked out as his arousal intensified. “But he wouldn’t want to end too fast. So he might stop for a moment and get on top.”

”The officer would welcome that,” Hogan said, whispering in Newkirk’s ear. “My god, you’re smooth,” he said as he stroked Newkirk’s thigh.

”Well, I’m still growing, Sir,” Newkirk replied as he climbed on top of Hogan. “That’s also why I’m so naughty, because I’m not big yet. Not like you. Plus I might have shaved a little for you.” He sucked the colonel’s ear lobe and could feel the Gov’s groin pulsating. 

“You _are_ pretty naughty,” Hogan laughed. “Teasing an entire barracks of men. And shaving for a full colonel.”

“Yes, and you might have to teach me a lesson, Sir,” Newkirk said, smiling sweetly.

“Oh? What lesson?” 

“How to behave properly, Sir.” He stroked the colonel’s cheek as he said it. 

Hogan’s hands were on Newkirk’s ribs as the corporal straddled him. He ran them over his belly and his thighs. “And how would I teach you that, you naughty boy?”

“Well, do you have petroleum jelly, Sir?”

Hogans heart stopped beating for a moment at what he thought Newkirk might be offering. Then he regained his senses. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

**XXX**

Hogan returned with the little jar and began to unscrew it, but Newkirk stopped him.

“The boy could learn a lot by rubbing it on for the officer,” he said.

”Learn what?” Hogan said skeptically. There were some things he preferred to do for himself.

”Well,” Newkirk said, dipping in his fingers, “he might learn about how much pressure is just right and about how the officer liked to be touched.” He rubbed generously, obviously enjoying the powerful feeling of making the Colonel aroused.

”But,” he added as he bent over the side of a chair, “he would want the officer to do the same for him. And to be gentle, mostly.”

”Gentle, mostly,” Hogan echoed. He dabbed the jelly at the opening, then inserted two fingers and then a third. “The officer would want to be sure the boy was ready.”

”Oh, he’s ready. He’s been waiting for a long time,” Newkirk smiled. With that, Hogan mounted him from behind and began to thrust. He was gentle, mostly.


	6. Chapter 6

It didn’t take long for Hogan to finish up. He’d imagined this moment many times, though his fantasy had never involved Newkirk or any other man. Newkirk’s shudders and moans and the milky puddle he left in Hogan’s hand had made it especially gratifying. He wanted to make him come again and again, to feel him explode and then go weak.

“Now what do you suppose the boy would want?” Hogan asked, still holding Newkirk from behind, his chin resting on the smaller man’s shoulder. "It can't be the same." He didn’t want to spell it out, but the officer didn’t want to be on the receiving end. But there was nothing else he wouldn’t do.

”Maybe when the boy’s a little older you’ll change your mind,” Newkirk sulked. “But since you had your way with the boy, you need to be very gentle with him now and take care of him.”

”Take care of him? How would I do that?” Hogan asked as he kissed Newkirk’s neck. He growled seductively, “I’ve already made him come.”

”Mm, yes, you did. Now he wants you to hold him,” Newkirk said, stroking the arm that was still encircling him and suddenly looking shy.

Hogan spun Newkirk around to face him, looking keenly interested. “You mean cuddle and caress him?” Hogan asked. That sounded all right.

”In your arms,” Newkirk replied, leaning into Hogan’s chest. “With lots of kissies.” He dipped his head, looking even more shy 

Hogan kisses Newkirk on the lips and the psssion built again. Then he led Newkirk by the hand to the bunk and pulled him across his lap to pet and fuss over him. Newkirk leaned into the colonel’s chest and sucked the tip of his thumb contentedly as he melted into the tender touch. He enjoyed the sensation of strong arms circling him while he lay quietly and absorbed affection. He’d never had any from the grownup men in his life, and as much as he loved the ladies, he yearned for—no, needed—strong male attention.

So he lay in Hogan’s arms and absorbed the sensation of the Colonel exploring him as though he was something entirely new. Hogan’s hands went everywhere as he stroked his hair, neck, cheeks, shoulders, back, belly, thighs. He brushed a hand over his penis and balls and wanted to linger but didn’t dare until Peter coaxed his hand back to cup his balls. Newkirk curled up, practically purring as he closed his eyes, snuggled into the colonel’s neck, and concentrated on his thumb.

”Do you like this?” Hogan eventually asked as he shifted his grip away from Newkirk’s balls and instead rubbed his tummy with a warm, broad hand.

”Mmm. Nice,” Newkirk murmured.

”You suck your thumb,” Hogan said softly, brushing hair from his eyes. “I never noticed.”

Newkirk shifted and peered up, his concentration broken.

”J-just the left one. J-j-just the tip when I’m sleepy. It relaxes me.” Now Newkirk was anxious. The colonel might not approve, but he needed this way to soothe himself when big feelings flooded him. Maybe it was a mistake to let Hogan see.

””Do you care?” Newkirk asked.

”That's OK,” Hogan said, but he sounded unsure.

”You don’t like it,” Newkirk said.

”It’s unusual,” Hogan said. “The important thing is that you like it. Right?”

“Yes, Sir. Don't try to make me stop,” Newkirk said through his full mouth. 

“Why not?”

”Just don’t. Please?”

”I won’t.”

”Promise?”

”Promise.”

”It reminds me of Mummy,” Newkirk whispered.

Hogan had no clever rejoinder to that, so he rubbed Newkirk’s neck and let him doze in his arms. He knew he'd lost his mother as a little boy and he’d wondered what it meant for him. This need to be held and babied must be part of the answer. “Well, Mummy’s not here, but Daddy is,” he thought, but he bit back the words.

Newkirk sighed with contentment as he settled into the strong embrace. Soon he was slumbering.

Minutes passed. Hogan was thinking. Corporal Newkirk was asleep in his arms, and he didn’t mind a bit. In fact, he liked it. It felt good to caress him. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

Eventually Newkirk stirred and reached up for a kiss, one hand on the Colonel’s cheek. Soon Newkirk found himself back under the colonel, being kissed wildly as another erection bore into his thigh.

”My goodness, Sir, you are virile tonight. Been a while?”

”Not really,” Hogan murmured into his neck as Newkirk pumped him. “I was with Tiger three days ago. It’s just that I haven’t had it like this before. You know, with...” His voice trailed off before he could confess the words “a man,” and he came in a deep, undulating wave of pleasure.

”Nor I,” Newkirk rushed in, letting the charade of detached control drop as his hand filled with Hogan’s warm, sticky seed.

“Wait. Are you saying this is your first time with a man?” Hogan was surprised. He flopped down heavily on Newkirk, enjoying the warmth of their bodies touching.

”Well, no. Not if you count wanking and handjobs and blowjobs. But we’re making love, Sir. I never did that with a bloke, and I never took it up the bum.” Not willingly, he added in his head as he ran his fingers through Hogan’s hair. This was very different, wanting it from the Gov and enjoying being filled up by him. Giving him that power instead of having it taken from him.

Hogan pushed to rise up on an elbow. “Well, it’s the first time for me. Why me, Newkirk? I’m not queer. There are all those guys in Barracks 9 if you just wanted...”

”Well, that hurts, Sir. It’s not about getting off, it’s about wanting _you_. Anyway, now that you’ve had your willy up me bum, I think it’s debatable who's queer,” Newkirk said with a grin. “I quite liked it, didn’t you?”

”Quit dodging. Why me?” Hogan demanded.

Hogan looked fierce, and Newkirk knew from experience that this was right when a bloke might decide to beat him black and blue. He didn’t think Hogan would, but who could tell? Most men were terrified of having queer impulses. Cheekiness was his best bet with Hogan. He knew the colonel loved that part of him.

“Do you really ‘ave to ask that sir? Attraction is a funny thing.”

Hogan looked at Newkirk’s wide eyes and brilliant smile and chuckled. “I guess I don’t have to ask. Prison camp, intense work, the need for release, and an absolutely entrancing Englishman. I know why I did it.” He stroked Newkirk’s cheek, drawing his sweetest smile, not knowing it was 50% pure relief and 50% childlike trust, with not even a drop of lust.

”A bloody handsome and clever Yank in tight trousers. Always touching me, getting me hard. Exciting chap, that Yank officer. Naturally I wondered what it would be like to be underneath him,” he said, drawing Hogan’s hand to his own erection. “And on top a little.”

”I do like it on top,” Hogan acknowledged, giving Newkirk an intimate little tug. “But I can share.”

”Good. Now get busy. We’ve been talking so much that my balls are turning blue. You can be in charge of fixing that, all right?”

Hogan’s hand was in place in a moment, slathered with Vaseline and moving very fast.

Newkirk was lying boneless in Hogan’s arms when the Gov asked him another question.

”That thing you mentioned with LeBeau. Are you, um, into him too? Or other men?”

”Well, I love Louis. He's me best mate. But what we do is j-j-j-just sex, Sir. J-just relief. He’ll go back to ladies the minute he can. In the meantime, we take care of each other. But there are no other men. And what I do with Louis ain’t like this. It’s not something to be j-j-j-jealous about.”

”Oh? And what’s this?” Hogan inquired. “How’s this different?”

”This, Sir? Oh, this is true love. I want to give my whole self to you.” Newkirk looked suddenly shy. 

Hogan looked confused. “But Newkirk, you really like girls—don’t you?”

”Oh, I do,” Newkirk sighed. “I love to be with them and talk to them and touch them and kiss them. And there’s nothing like being inside where they’re so soft and wet, or taking a nipple in your mouth. But they can’t do what you do, can they? Get inside me, or hold me like you do, because you’re strong and tender and you understand me. I want girls, but I need you, Sir. True love.”

Hogan stared, then a wide smile cracked his face. 

“True love. I think the officer would like that.”

”It’s what the boy needs,” Newkirk agreed. “He's had a hard life, that lad, but he knows love and attraction when he sees it. And he wants taking care of by a strong man who can lead him.”

”And baby him,” Hogan added, a smile curling his lips.

“Yes, please Sir,” Newkirk added with relief. Hogan had understood his deepest need, to be able to retreat into childhood vulnerability when the world became too much. Not even masturbating relieved his stress as well as sucking his thumb. “But that’s our secret,” he whispered, biting his lip. “Only when no one’s looking and only when I need it. Now let’s see to you again, all right, Sir? Because you’re quite hard.”

”My pleasure, Newkirk,” Hogan replied.

”Our pleasure,” Newkirk corrected him as he slid down and took a taste. Mmm. His lips encircled Hogan’s little soldier. He had his attention and would put him at ease.

”That’s my boy,” Hogan said, stroking Newkirk's hair in rhythm as the corporal’s head bobbed in his lap.

It wasn’t yet 11 o’clock and the barracks was sound asleep as Hogan and Newkirk shared their own private bedtime story.


	7. Chapter 7

They slept, Newkirk curled on top of Hogan, his head heavy on the Colonel’s chest. The bunk was small but they were both thin. Hogan could feel Newkirk’s ribs poking out as he caressed him.

Is this really happening? Hogan asked himself. Is this really me? He thought of all the women he’d been intimate with and asked himself why he’d never married. Not yet. Soon. There was still time — that was always the answer. What if the answer had been something he wasn’t yet willing to look at? What if the answer had been that he wanted another man? It was unthinkable.

If he had wanted another man he’d never been conscious of the urge. Until Newkirk. He had noticed him since they met. He was exciting and dangerous and charming and ador... Oh crap. Yes, adorable. He’d noticed. He’d caught himself looking him up and down and knew he’d seen the spark of interest. But it was a POW camp. All the men were hungry for sex. That’s why Newkirk told his bedtime stories.

Those stories. Hogan had heard them many times before. At least once a week, when the barracks was restless, Newkirk would start in. His stutter, which was severe enough at times to push him to the edge of tears, left him as he spun his yarns. For a single man of only 21 or 22, he certainly had a lot of material. Hogan would listen from his room and play along. He’d come to the sound of Newkirk’s voice a dozen times or more. He imagined Newkirk stroking him hard as he came, and his mind flooded with shame.

Newkirk had mentioned LeBeau. It wasn’t hard to imagine them, helping each other along. He’d picked up on Newkirk’s “appointments.” My place. That must be his sewing hut. But were there others? He’d seen Newkirk with Rhys, the effeminate Welshman from Barracks 9. Did they? Had they? Newkirk seemed to like him, but not that way. 

My God, Hogan suddenly realized. I’m jealous. I’m jealous of anyone getting close to my boy.

He felt Newkirk stir in his arms and could feel himself rising again. He’d already come three times. Not even Tiger had pushed him past two. Now here he was, getting ready for four. He was incredibly aroused by this young man, by this... situation.

And where Newkirk had let him go... invited him to go. That was incredible. He wanted more of that. Now, actually. He shook Newkirk awake.

”Peter, Peter,” he whispered.

”Mmm, sleeping. Shh.”

”I need you. I’m hard again,” Hogan said.

”You’ve got a right hand. Use it.”

”I want to go inside you. Please?”

”You woke me up to tell me that? You bloody scoundrel.” He yawned and spread his legs wide. “Try it this way.”

”Is that even possible?”

”You’re clever. I think you’ll work it out. Plus we can kiss in this position.Just move me where you need me to go. Get the petrolatum.”

**XXX**

It did work. At just the right moment, Newkirk hooked his legs over Hogan’s shoulders. They kissed hungrily as Hogan thrust inside him. He couldn’t believe how tight Newkirk felt and he got lost in his lust.

Then he heard Newkirk whimper. “Not so fast. You don’t have to hurt me.” He thumped Hogan in the chest. Hogan opened his eyes and could see Newkirk wincing, tears trickling down his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, softening inside Newkirk. “We’re both new at this.”

“You were gentle before. I told you to be gentle. Now you’re acting just like the others.” He was crying as Hogan pulled out of him.

”Others? I thought you said I was the first,” Hogan said. I’ve never taken it up the bum, Newkirk had said. Was he lying?

Newkirk turned red. He started to answer, but his stutter was in high gear and he looks like he was choking.

”Why would you lie to me? What else are you lying about?” Hogan was angry now. Newkirk was expecting to feel his fist.

Hogan was up and pulling on his pajamas. “I think you’d better get out. Go back to your bunk.” Then he looked at Newkirk, who was gasping for air. “Is that an act, too?”

Newkirk finally found the words. “Y-you’re the one who had to put his d-d-d-dick in me in the mmmmiddle of the night. And nnnnow everything’s mmmy fffffault?” He took a deep breath. “And nnno, it’s not an act. You’re scaring me. And you were so nice before.”

“You said there were others. Who? LeBeau?”

“No!”

“The Krauts? Maybe that’s how you get your cigarettes.”

“Now you’re just being cruel,” Newkirk whispered. Tears were trickling down his cheek now. His lip was trembling and oh God, he looked so vulnerable.

“Who, then?” Hogan laid a hand on his cheek and rubbed away a tear with his thumb. “Shhh. Shhh.” 

“My brothers. Anyone who wanted to teach me a lesson. Yes, the Krauts, but not because I let them. The only person I ever, ever invited in was you. Why can’t you be gentle?” Newkirk’s voice was soft and pleasing.

“They raped you?” Shock and anger underpinned Hogan’s question. Who had done this to Newkirk? 

”I suppose that’s what you call it.”

”When?”

”Blimey, all the time. Do you want times and dates?” He wiped at his eyes. “I thought you were different.”

”I am different,” Hogan said. “But I’m ... well, I’m new at this. You have to help me do it right. I never want to hurt you. I don’t want to make you cry. I want to make love to you.”

Newkirk nodded, trying to take in what Hogan was saying, 

”But Newkirk... Peter... baby,” Hogan said. He placed his hand at the back of Newkirk’s neck. 

Newkirk looked up at him. Baby. Did he mean that? Could he feel that affectionate? It was too much to hope for that he would be someone's Baby, let alone Hogan’s.

”If you’ve been forced... why do you want it at all? You don’t have to. We could do other things.”

”I want you inside me, Sir. I want to feel close to you. But I want to let you come in, not have you take that from me. You have to be gentle mostly.”

”I can do that. Peter, is that why you stutter? From being ... um, raped?”

Newkirk was stunned by the question. “I stammered a long time before anyone hurt me that way,” he replied.

“OK. But it seems worse when...”

”Sometimes it’s better, sometimes it’s worse. It’s hard to predict, Sir,” Newkirk shrugged. “I know it’s h-hard to believe, b-b-but I c-c-control it most of the time. It’s hard work.” 

“Well, you don’t have to change for me,” Hogan said softly. “I can wait to hear what you have to say.”

"“Th-thank you, sssir,” Newkirk replied. He took Hogan’s hand and played with his fingers, then smiled softly. “Sir?” he asked, not daring to look up. “Am I really your baby?”

Hogan grabbed him around the neck as they sat side by side, then said “come ‘ere” as he pulled him onto his lap. “Whenever you want to be, you’re my baby,” he said quietly. “I’ll take care of you and you don’t have to worry.”

Newkirk nodded as he rested his head on Hogan’s shoulders. “Hold me tight,” he said, inserting his thumb. “Hold me tonight and we can try again soon. I like having you inside me, Sir. Just be gentle.”

”I’ll take you to a hotel,” Hogan said. “We can take our time. We won’t have to rush.”

“Promise?”

”Promise. Now sleep. I’ve got you, baby.”


	8. Chapter 8

Two weeks later, a mission took Hogan and Newkirk to a room in the Hausnerhof Hotel. They would be out of camp for several hours.

Their contact arrived early. Trade made, mission complete. Now all that remained was to return to camp in daylight.

In the hotel room, Hogan stared out of the window, evaluating the street scene. He could see soldiers and Gestapo men, and SS officers. Leaving now would be too risky. “We have time here,” he announced. “Too many patrols on the street.” He looked at Newkirk, perched on the bed looking handsome in his civilian suit, and smiled. “I know how to pass the time.”

Since that late night in Hogan’s quarters, when everyone was sleeping deeply, they’d found it hard to be alone. They’d had two hurried trysts in the tunnels. Once they’d showered side by side, with Newkirk making a show of lathering himself up and Hogan sneaking a touch as they toweled off. Newkirk’s masturbatory tales intensified, and were now a nightly affair. Some of the guys were complaining it was too much, but Hogan was enjoying the confident sound of Newkirk’s voice. He came fast every time in the privacy of his room and fell asleep fondling himself and wondering if Newkirk was still hard. He’d learned to recognize Newkirk’s sounds of fulfillment, and noticed he seemed very satisfied.

So Hogan stood over Newkirk on the bed and pulled him up into a kiss. He looked over his shoulder and checked their surroundings. Door locked. Window curtains drawn closed. He laid his pistol on the bedside table, and Newkirk followed suit.

”Take this off,” he said huskily, tugging off the suit jacket and shirt Newkirk wore. He shed his own jacket, undid his belt buckle and climbed over him on the bed.

”Please, Sir, let me hang these properly. I worked hard on those creases.” Newkirk clambered out of bed to hand his coat and shirt, and he stripped off his trousers. Hanging everything neatly, he turned to Hogan’s jacket. He watched hungrily as Hogan stripped off his shirt and trousers and he hung those too. They were both in shorts and undershirts.

”Still too much clothing,” Hogan said. He helped Newkirk out of his vest, then caressed the front of his underpants, not yet ready to look at the prize inside. He pushed Newkirk down on the bed, then tugged off his shorts. Leaning over him, he kissed him, then wriggled down to his tummy. He gently ran his hands over him, then kissed him below his belly button. He was rewarded with a hard, hard erection.

Hogan stroked him gently, then took Newkirk in his mouth. The salty tang was a new sensation, but not unpleasant. He licked gently, savoring the velvety tip, then ran his tongue down the shaft and along the underside. His tongue tickled the groove near the tip, sending a shiver through Peter’s entire body.

He could feel Newkirk’s response growing. He took him into his mouth as far as he could go, and pulsed up and down. His hand would be faster, Hogan thought, but this had to feel better. Newkirk’s excitement was intense.

”Almost. Almost,” Newkirk said. “Sir, I’m so close. Use your hand so I don’t come in your mouth.”

Hogan lifted his head up long enough to say, “I like it this way.”

”All right,” Newkirk said breathlessly. “If you don’t mind...”

”I want you this way,” Hogan said. His tongue went back to Peter’s tip. He licked and let his imagination wander as he sucked hard.

The release was intense as he processed how much Hogan wanted him. Newkirk bucked and cried out as his colonel brought him to a long, rolling orgasm.

”That was a strong one,” Hogan said. “God, I love to make you come.”

Newkirk was still breathing hard. He laughed. “Not half as much as I love to come. That was incredible, Sir. Did you swallow?”

Hogan grinned. “What do you think?”

”What do I think? I think it’s amazing to have sex and not have to worry about getting a girl up the duff,” he said.

”Up the duff?”

”In a family way, Sir.”

Hogan laughed. “Yeah, no chance of either of us getting pregnant. I hadn’t thought about that, but it does take some pressure off.”

”Speaking of pressure,” Newkirk said. “You might like some. Right... here.” He reached over to fondle Hogan’s erection. “Mmm,” he said. “I want you inside me. Promise not to play too rough, Sir?”

”I’ll be gentle, mostly,” Hogan replied. 

“Don’t make your baby cry again,” Peter warned in playful tone. “A man like you has to be so careful. You’re so big that you could hurt someone.” He clambered over Hogan, straddled him, and kissed him deeply. 

“I am big,” Hogan admitted. “Bigger than you.”

”Mmm, and I like it that way,” Newkirk replied. 

XXX 


End file.
